The Thing She Wants
by ughiguess
Summary: Unwinding after a battle, Loki makes Sif an offer she can't pass up. Set pre Thor (2011) (An updated version of my previous fic of the same title over at ao3.).


Author's note:

I was always struck by how Sif was already very distrustful of Loki even in the very beginning of the first movie. I wondered how she got to that place, being the most suspicious of Loki by far and understanding his motivation better than the others who have known him just as long. I hope it was clear that this is consensual- she knows its Loki, but she just wants to have had the physical experience of Thor.

Also, feel free to give me constructive criticism; I am fairly new to writing sex and could use the feedback.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with Marvel. I do this for fun.

Sif leaned against a wooden column in a warm and cheery alehouse on Vanaheim. The atmosphere did not match her mood, though the mead was helping somewhat. In the aftermath of a battle that was over long before the adrenalin had worn off, she was tired, sore and surly. Nearby were her closest friends. The Warriors Three were enjoying themselves at a long table piled with fruits, meat and wine, laughing and telling stories. Thor was not to be seen, having made his exit moments ago. He had not gone alone.

"It burns in your heart, doesn't it?" Ah, the other Odinson. He was behind her now, and his voice was somewhere above her left ear, using his height to an advantage. "Every time he stumbles off with some tavern wench or fireside slut, your eyes follow him."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"What do they have that you don't have?" he continued, regardless, his voice a mocking lilt. "Is it their undulating forms, their hips that sway like tulips in the breeze, whereas yours are lean and your gait is stiff, like a soldiers'?" She felt his hands now, resting ever so lightly on her hips, he was closer now and she could sense his chest at her back, barely feel the folds of his armored coat.

His voice was right in her ear as he continued, "Is it their soft, sweet lips whereas yours are thin and firm with centuries of scowling?" She didn't know why she let him carry on, but she was tired and he seemed to be handing out free advice, even if it did sound patronizing and sarcastic. She let him continue, not knowing why she hadn't moved away as soon as he began. "Is it their hands? Pink and smooth with perfect fingernails, no crust of dirt or blood beneath them?"

Perhaps she'd had a flagon too much mead, because she'd allowed him to lace his fingers in hers down at her side. His other hand was now wrapping itself in her hair and pulling her head back gently. "Is it their airy, golden curls? Whereas yours are limp and beetle black."

"Whose fault is that?" she shot back at him with less venom than she intended. _Definitely too much mead_ , she thought.

"Hmm," he laughed, not unpleasantly. "That I concede." He was now even closer still, his chest was holding her up more than the column. "Allow me to make it up to you," he said matter of factly.

She was suddenly more awake and tensed against him. "What do you mean?" she asked.

He took his time before answering, the hand in her hair loosening and resting on her sore shoulder, which he began absently rubbing. "I'm as unlike to Thor as you are to the tarts and bawds he chases. Lean where he is thick, dark where he is light, intelligent where he is-"

"Alright, I get it," she cut him off.

"Now, _you_ may trade your armor for a dress and you boots for slippers, but you can't change bodies with those painted women. I don't think you should have to, by the way... On the other hand," he lifted their intertwined hands in front of her face and suddenly there was a golden glow that she felt in her bones. His hand had shifted into one with stocky fingers, a broader palm; she could see thick golden hairs peeking around the back along the arm. His voice was slower, lower now. "I have the ability to become the thing that sets your pulse racing. I can become my brother totally," he continued, dropping into Thor's deep, gruff tone, "even to the sound of his voice." She shivered in his arms, gasping as the sound went straight to her pleasure centers.

"I can feel how badly you want to," he said, switching back to his own voice again, pitched now to an equally seductive rumble.

"I… I don't know what I want. This isn't fair." The words were tumbling out, she was conscious that she should be denying it but not sure how to since it was so obvious to him by her reactions.

"He'll never have you, you know," he went on. "You were so concerned about looking weak. You wanted to be just another warrior, and so to him, now you are. I don't mind that, I like a strong woman, a woman who goes after the thing she wants, even if it's only for one night."

She knew his argument was specious, that she shouldn't let his silver tongue massage her thoughts. But right now it was massaging her neck in a string of open mouthed kisses that were slowly headed down toward her clavicle and the pull of the sensation was strong. After all, she thought, Loki did know his own brother's mind. It had been centuries since she had first been honest with herself about her feelings for Thor and about her chances with him. There had been other men, of course, but it all was in keeping with the warrior spirit she so desperately cultivated. The men had camp followers and serving girls for pleasure after the pain of battle, to burn off the excess excitement. She had had her fun too and found that physical pleasure, on occasion, was enough, a healthy distraction. She closed her eyes, knowing that it was a bad idea, but at the same time, it was her chance to see Thor's body move in passion, to feel it react to her touch. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, perhaps the only one she would ever get. She hated that it was Loki who could give it to her, but in a way she would be using him as much as he was using her. She drew a deep breath and took the plunge, saying "Alright, let's go."

He broke away from her and she turned to face him, half expecting him to laugh in her face and say it was all a joke. Instead, he grabbed her hand with a vicious smile and transported them away. They appeared in a barn or hayloft of some sort, but it was warm and dry, and smelled pleasantly like grain.

"This looks like the sort of place he'd take them," said Loki, a smirk forming on his lips, but she wasn't having it.

"Shut up and change, Shapeshifter." He did so immediately and for once there was no sly comeback, just Thor's brilliant, eye-crinkling grin. She launched herself at him, kissing him hard on the mouth.

"Not a word of this to anyone, swear on your mother."

"I swear," came Thor's deep voice. She slapped him on the arm.

"In your own voice, Liesmith."

"I swear," he said in his own voice this time. The image was exceedingly strange but she ignored it, he was smiling at her again and she couldn't wait any longer. Her lips were back on his instantly, and she was pushing him back onto a pile of hay, straddling his thighs and pulling at his armor. He laughed Thor's low chuckle and vanished his clothes, leaving her holding onto nothing but hot, hard pectoral muscle. He was tan, which she'd known, and rock solid, which she'd suspected, and he felt magnificent, which she'd imagined a thousand times but never successfully. He just lay back into the straw, letting her appraise him, watching her with a sly smile.

She ignored it as best as possible, pulling her armored vest up and over her head, removing it as fast as possible. Loki/Thor made no move to help her as she tossed it aside and untied the shift she wore underneath, sitting upon him naked now except for her boots and greaves.

At first, he let her explore him, her eyes, hands and lips raking his body. He let her squeeze her thighs around his and test his hardness with her hands, let her sink onto him with an expression of pure bliss on her face and her eyes screwed shut. He held her thighs and helped her move on him, her breath becoming ragged, her lips desperate for his. They moved like this for some time, he kneading her hips with a bruising strength and she ignoring the discomfort in her legs as she aided in the push and pull, increasing the friction, her face hovering above his, thrown back into the hay.

When she could barely stand it any longer, he rolled them, increasing the pace as he braced himself over her. He let her grab his neck and pull him down to her lips for a fierce kiss. "Harder," she whispered. He obliged, and reached between them to tease her folds. She was moaning now, making the most satisfying little noises as if trying to speak and grasping at the skin of his shoulders as if trying to pull him into her entirely. He looked down at her face, her head was rolling side to side and her eyes were closed as she whimpered, "Oh, God! Thor!"

It threw him off for a second, but he started again ferociously, his hands gripping her sides with white knuckles. He grabbed the back of her head, steadying her. "Come, Sif," he said, voice harsh with exertion. "Look at me," he demanded, the change coming over him slowly as she opened her eyes. "Look at my face, remember who really brought you this pleasure." She could feel the magic over her, around her and inside her, the sensation added to her pleasure and she reached her peak. The look on her face was furious, she pushed on his chest but he held her neck tightly, keeping her eyes on him as he finished.

Afterward, they separated completely, as soon as possible. Both were out of breath, both shining with sweat. Loki conjured his armor back on and stood as she sat up in the hay and began to re-cover herself.

"That wasn't in our bargain," she said, her head bowed as she tied her shift back on. She was stubbornly not looking at him, knowing what she would see.

"What bargain? You stipulated no conditions," he said, dismissively. He was brushing hay off his cloak and seemed very pleased with himself.

"Still, it wasn't what I wanted."

He looked down at her coldly. "I liar I may be, but at least I don't lie to myself. We both got what we wanted. You were fucking him. I was fucking you." With that he vanished from the barn, leaving her feeling exhausted and even more alone than before.


End file.
